Ive had enough! Im done! If you dont stop getting on at me, I simply wont bother with my exams at all! I mean itI just wont show up! What will you do then, eh? I tossed my rucksack into the corner of the hall, yanked off my bobble hat, and stared furiously at Mum.
She replied with nothing more than a slow shake of her head before disappearing into the kitchen.
I shrugged out of my coat. At first, I considered flinging it after the rucksack but stopped myself. Instead, I hung it neatly in the cupboard and sighed.
For goodness sake, weve argued again. Always about nothing!
Why does Mum insist on pestering me with questions and advice as if Im a child? Or like Ive lost the plot and dont know whats going on?
Of course I remembered I had tutoring todaywith a new English tutor, no less. Theres no need for her to remind me every half an hour!
But I was exaggerating. Mum doesnt nag endlessly; she simply asked if Id remembered about my third English and Lit tutor this year. Still, her attempts to keep tabs on me condescend me so much, its almost a reflex to fly off the handle. Even when my angers ridiculous.
I washed my hands and glared at my own reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Looking spectacular, arent I? Pimples, Dads stubby nose, and that wild auburn hairMums genes, clearly. How many times have I begged to dye it? But Mum always pulls the same line: Real beauty takes patience. One day youll thank me.
Yeah, right! Everyone else just gets on with life, looking normal, and Im stuck like some scarecrow with these ridiculous plaits. Who even wears plaits?
I couldnt help but smirk, remembering how upset Mum was when I chopped them off with those blunt childrens scissors. They were the only ones I could find. With a tight jaw and half-closed eyes, I snipped at the thick, springy ends, almost tasting the shock shed feel:
Emily, what on earth have you done?!
Because I was fed up, thats why! Its my life, my rules! Ill do what I like!
People always go on about following the rules. But why? Why should I buy into their outdated ideas? I live in a different worldone theyd never dream of! How can they understand what matters to me when, at my age, they didnt even have the internet? How did people survive back then, honestly? And you cant just explain to them that life has changed! Who cares about endless studying these days? Every facts onlinethree seconds and Googles sorted it! Mum protests, says you cant learn life or relationships from a screen, but what does she know? Maybe she ought to watch a few parenting webinars herself.
Picking at yet another spot, I winced. Thank goodness Mum wasnt watching or shed have been all over me for it! Shes always dragging me to the GP, fretting Ill scar, but I dont care! Its whats inside that countshow do I get that through to her?
Parent, I thought. She may have given birth to me, but Im not property! Im not her belonging, for crying out loud!
I winked at my reflection.
Satisfied, Mum? Maybe you shouldnt have subjected me to a parade of private tutors. And no, I dont want to be a solicitor! I know way more already about law and divorce than my own parents. If only they had a clue, maybe theyd have sorted things out better when they split.
No pride, no ambitionthats Mum. Not only did Dad leave for his younger girlfriend, but he sliced up the house as he pleased, and Mum didnt argue. Sure, the flat Nan left was signed over to me, but thats only reasonable, right? What about child supportjust the basics? Is that fair for the years wasted? No one knows better than I do how those last years felttense, silent dinners, Dads empty thanks after a bland meal That pokey study with its sofa, no space for a wardrobe, so he traipsed into their bedroom every morning anyway. Mum, setting her alarm extra early so hed never catch her asleep in there. And the relief we all felt when I finally told them at fourteen to just call it quits already. Enough is enough!
Honestly, adults are absurd. All that we live for you, youre the centre of our world. Nonsenseeveryone lives for themselves! I could list a hundred times when thats been trueeven in things that apparently benefit me, theyre working their own angles! Im just a bargaining tool, facilitating their private little negotiations.
Look at this flatsmaller than the old one, decent décor and furniture though. Mum wrangled it out of Dad, leveraging his guilt, Our child deserves a good homego and build your new life, but make sure shes sorted first! Dad caved. So yes, now I have the big bedroom, but not out of care: its just a diplomatic split so no one has to quarrel for years. And Im the bumper keeping the peace.
With a grimace, I reached for that tube of cream from the GP. Not conceding anything to Mum, of coursejust that it really does clear up the worst spots quickly, and tonight, of all nights, I need that.
Because tonightthe rooftop.
The roof only entered my world recently. A few months ago. It began when Max, the lad Id fancied from afar (never daring to speak, just blush and hover), messaged out of the blue: Fancy a walk?
At first, I thought it was a prank. Everyone knew how I felt about Max; they teased but liked me all the sameI always helped out, shared my answers, volunteered in class when I could save a mate from trouble.
Emily, I only just called on you last lesson! Why are you so keen today?
Oh, Miss Daniels, its just the topics so interesting! Did you think Queen Victoria was a tyrant? Was her reign really so autocratic?
Even the strictest teachers would get distracted by my oddball questions, and the class would sigh with reliefno sudden quizzes then!
So when I showed Ruth, my so-called best friend, the message, she just snorted:
And? Dont make such a fussit is from him, isnt it? Look, Emily, this is the 21st century! If youre not sure, go and ask him! Girls invite boys out all the time now.
I couldnt replyI had no words for the whirlpool inside me once those letters on the screen finally made sense.
Still, I went to the meeting place. After that, it felt like my life had flipped upside down.
The rooftop of an abandoned blockwasnt exactly safe, I know. But every time Max took my hand and murmured, Carefulwatch your step, my heart would gallop, and Id follow, counting the stairs in my head.
Sixteen seventeen nearly there. Thirty thirty-two what are you afraid of? Hes with you
Up there, he first put his arm round meno words, just closeness, right in front of his mates. Like he was saying, Shes my girl. The older girls from his year gave me daggers, but none objected. Max could have had any of them, but hed picked me.
That was the night he kissed me. Everyone else had gone to the cinema, but he squeezed my fingers and whispered, Well go just us, another night. And I stayed quietly, understanding a special evening awaited.
It did. Sometimes, out of nowhere, I still hear his voice, feel it shivering through me:
Emily, I really like you Im hopeless with words, but I want you to knowIve never met anyone like you. May I?
Those gentle kisses, so shy, so soft
Just as I lost myself in those memories, Mum knocked softly on the bathroom door:
Em, youll be late lunch is on the table
Fury engulfed me again. Why cant she leave me alone?!
I stormed out, face all thunder, probably resembling that meme with the screechy old woman.
What do you want from me? I havent forgotten! Stop pestering! You drove Dad away and now its my turn, isnt it? Ill go and live with him, see how you like it!
I didnt see her reaction coming. She simply sighed and, with one swift motion, slapped me.
Go, then! And when youre back tonight, remember youve got your mock English tomorrow. Get some sleep.
I was stunned. Mum had never hit me. Not once, ever. Strangely, I didnt feel angrymore just bewildered. The fact shed finally snapped, after all my nonsense, shook me.
But giving upnope, not my thing. Rucksack, coat, headphones. I wanted to slam the door hard enough to shake the whole block, but made myself walk out calmly. No need to give her even more reason to fret.
As I headed down the street, I checked my phone. An hour there and back, an hour at the tutor. Max and I could meet by sixnot before. Perfect. Wed sit on the roof, let Mum worry for a change. She needs to. Dad doesnt pick up her calls anymore, so theres plenty of time for Max and me to talk. Maybe hell have some advicehis parents actually let him live. Proper bank account with a limit, stylish clothes, zero supervision. His mums too busy; his dad says at sixteen its time to sort your own future. Lets him work, manage his own studies. Why cant more parents be like that?
Not like my mum
Just as I reached the tutors front gate, Dad rang.
Whats going on now? Your mother says youre planning to move in with me?
Oh please, Dad. Dont believe everything she says! Your Kate will have her baby any day nowIm not babysitting your newborn! Ive got enough to do as it is!
Right. Dont fall out with your mother. Or Ill be cutting off your allowance, you hear?
Thats what I like about you, Dad. Straight to the point.
Good. And stop winding her up, she doesnt deserve it.
The line clicked dead. I scowled.
Always the sameat each others throats, but when it comes to me, suddenly acting like a united front. Makes no sense!
The new tutor didnt warm to me. My rant about idioms got little more than a stifled huff; then he shoved some book at me to read for next time. I was annoyed but, after a few examples, had to admit the reading might actually help.
No, I dont want to look stupid. Max is cleverI need to keep up. All those YouTube videos say the same: Be self-sufficient and smart! Well, self-sufficiency can wait, but I can work on intelligence. Mum says thats one thing you can always improve. She even managed her degree in the end, despite everything else.
Mum left uni when I was born. Took a break, then life just happened and she decided motherhood mattered more than a diploma. I was always ill as a kid, and both my grandmothers were gone, so there was no one to help. Nursery lasted barely half a yearI hated the food, the kids, and not having Mum there. Dad used to say:
You never let her out of your sight. Shes too attachedwhat will happen when she starts school?
When I got to year three, Mum asked the neighbour to pick me up, then went back to uni part-time and got a job too.
Right move. Otherwise, shed be sitting at home, counting pennies and stewing. Instead, she started a small firm arranging wedding venues and parties. I admired thatthe way she was always so graceful and confident at work, nothing like the house-proud pushover at home. Sometimes I wished I had her strength.
And still, the control drove me mad. Even when she knocked before entering my room and tried not to meddle, she still had a way of watching everything as if I were a toddler. Not like Dad with his threats, but all gentle:
Emily, hows your day? Whats on the plan? Hungry?
Her fussing made me want to scream:
Please, just leave me alone! Im not a child anymore!
Sometimes, I actually did shout, stomp around, like a proper brat.
On the way to meet Max, I just wanted to fall into his arms and forget about everything elseparents, mocks, whatever. Life just slips by and theyre obsessed with their own mess!
Standing by the school gates, Max was nowhere to be seen, which was odd. I waited for a bit, tried calling, but he didnt answer. I started to panicthe silence felt weird, ominous.
I climbed the blocks stairs alone, every step heavier without Maxs hand to hold. The wind on the roof cut right through me. No one in sight. Night was falling.
I was about to give up, switching on my phones torch, when movement by the parapet made me jump. My breath caught in my throat as I recognised him.
Max
He was sitting at the edge, legs dangling, shoulders hunched. Max had all that swagger usually, but now it was obvioussomething horrible had happened.
Fear for him, raw and animal, fired me into action. I dropped my bag and quietly stepped onto the roof.
Hi
I sat beside him on the ledge, not daring to tip my feet over like he had. Heights made me dizzy, but somehow I made myself join him, just so he wasnt alone.
Hi, he muttered, barely moving his head. His cold fingers trembled in mine as I searched for any sign of the usual sparkle in his eyesthere was none.
For the first time, I think I understood what my mum feels when we fightthat soul-twisting terror that you might lose the person you love most, and words just wont reach them.
His hand was lifeless in mine, icy and limp.
Are you alright?
I barely recognised my own voice. I sounded just like Mumsoft, scared, begging: Please let me in. Tell me whats wrong. I dont want to hurt you!
It worked.
Not really he echoed hollowly, but squeezed my fingers at last. Not really, Em
Has something happened?
I wasnt asking. I was stating what was obvious. It worked again.
Yeah.
Can you tell me? I know were not I mean, maybe its too personal
He finally turned and fixed me with a gaze so strange it made me shiver.
Arent we close?
No, I meanof course youre close. Its just, maybe you dont feel the same
Come on, Em. I have no one else.
My heart stuttered. It beat so hard, I thought for sure he could hear it drumming.
What do you meanno one? What about your family?
I blurted it out in a daze, still overwhelmed by what hed just said. His reaction jolted me back.
He flinched, shaking his head so hard I gasped.
Careful!
Yeah! Let go, push me, why dont you! Thats what they did!
Who?
The people I thought were my parents. Turns out Im adopted. My mum handed me my papers and spilled everything. EmilyIm not their son. I always guessed, but today today its all real. My lifea mistake. Ive just been filling someone elses shoes, not my own!
He started shouting, and I clung onto him, terrified hed try something desperate.
The idea that Max really could slip over the edge terrified me. Others saw bravado, but under that mask, there was a real, wounded boy. With me, he showed the softness no one else saw. In that moment, my complaints and bitterness about life felt small and silly.
If youd asked me before what was so unfair about my own life, I wouldnt have known how to answer. Now, though, seeing Maxs pain made it obvious how meaningless my own angsty fight for growing up really was. Here was someone forced into adulthood in an instantwith nobody at his side. My quarrelling, interfering parents, for all their faults, still gave me a net to fall back on.
Max, Im scared! Tears had started flowing without my noticing, which snapped him out of his own misery.
Hey! Dont He reached for me, and I grabbed him in a hug, holding tight as I could.
Dont! Pleasedont do anything. Even if they threw you out, Ill never turn my back on us. Youre the only one I care about.
Im not really Max His voice was eerily detached and I peered at him through tears.
What?
My birth name isnt Max.
That doesnt matter! Call yourself the Pope if you fancyI know you and thats that!
Yeah, but not everyone will feel that way Em, what now? Where do I go from here?
Can you not go home? Did they kick you out?
No. Mum cried, begged me to stay. Dad I hit him.
Why?
He tried to lock the door and stop me leaving. Yelled that I didnt understand anything
And do you? Are you sure you know everything?
What do you mean? Emily, whats left to know? The tightness in his voice made me ache for him.
Why now? Why tell you this now?
He crumbled before my eyes, lost again. At last he spoke.
I dont know
That was the key. No more despair, just a question he couldnt answer. The ledge suddenly wasnt holding him prisoner.
Want me to come with you?
Where?
To your parentslets go together. They can explain why they picked today to tell you. If you want to come back here after we will. I wont stand in your way.
He stared, relieved but uncertain. When I urged him back, he let me pull him up.
Lets go!
We walked away from the edge, and I held him close. Every step mattered more than anything left behind.
Im a coward
Nonsense! I huffed, tugging him towards the stairs. Anyone would stumble learning this! You hear me?
Halfway down, I nearly tripped. Max caught my arm.
Careful!
Takes one to know one! I switched on my torch and gripped his hand tighter. Weve got things to do!
None of us will forget that evening. The conversation with his parents was long and hard. The acceptance, when he learned his birth father was about to be released from prison and wanted contact. The tears of the woman who had raised him, taken on a friends child after a tragedy.
My real mum?
Yes, loveyour birth father did it
And now he wants to see me?
He does.
I cant.
Thats up to you. We support you whatever you decide.
They talked for hours, and I knew wed never go back to the rooftop togethersomething had shifted, the past replaced by something new.
Late that night, I crept home, still in my coat, keys clutched in tight fingers. Mum was there in the dark kitchen, standing by the window as always. I hugged her from behind, nuzzling into her familiar curls and scent. And for the first time, one little word felt like hope, clearing away all the clutter and leaving what matters most:
Sorry
And, echoing back, the one who always cared more for my happiness than anything else:
Me too, darling. Are you hungry?
No, Mum, thanks. You know, I think I passed an exam tonight.
Exam? But arent they months off?
This one was the big one, Mum Ill tell you everything. Just not tonight.
Why not now?
Because Ive a mock tomorrow and honestly, I need to sleepI smiled into the soft darkness, feeling the warmth of her presence more than ever before.
Because, Mumright now, I just want to sit here with you. If thats alright.
She turned, wrapped her arms around me, and for a moment, we didnt need words at all. The anger and the endless cycle of who was right, who hurt more, faded away. In its place was something strongera quiet promise, stitched together from all the fragile pieces of who we were.
I let myself lean into her, heart still pounding from everything that had happened, and wondered at how heavy things had seemed only a few hours ago, and how light I suddenly felt. Maybe it was truenobody gets to live someone elses life, no matter how loudly you shout, no matter how hard you try to make sense of the rules.
The house was still small. My hair was still wild. My exams were still looming sharp and mean on the horizon. But tonight, none of that mattered.
Tonight, Id stepped off the edgeheld myself steady, and held someone else too. Tonight, I found out what counted, not in textbooks or on screens, but in the quiet kitchen at midnight, arms linked, breathing hope back into the world.
Maybe Mum was right. Maybe real beauty is patience, and maybejust maybeone day, Id thank her for it.
But for now, with her hand in mine beneath the faded kitchen lamp, it was enough to know that I was home, and, for the first time in a very long while, I wanted to stay.
